


love has no shape on its own

by hylian_reptile



Series: RvB Fluff Week [7]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F, i sure fucking hope that staying up to 4:40AM was worth this lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 06:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hylian_reptile/pseuds/hylian_reptile
Summary: Idaho pulls a code red on Ohio's dumb ass. It's a top priority mission: Make Ohio and Sherry go on a date.





	love has no shape on its own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hinn_Raven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/gifts).



Idaho pulls the code red alarm, and within minutes, Ohio skids into the security room with two guns in hand. “What is it?!” she demands. “Are they attacking?! Is it Sherry?! Do I have to fix my hair now?!”

 

Idaho flips the alarm off. Iowa removes his hands from his ears. “Nope. Pretty sure they don’t wake up before four in the afternoon, anyway.”

 

Ohio frowns. “Then what’re you pulling a code red alarm for?”

 

“You,” Idaho says.

 

“But she’s on our team?” Iowa says.

 

“Yeah! I’m on your team!”

 

Idaho raises a finger. “Clarification: I’m declaring code red on your dumb, gay ass.”

 

Idaho presents the following recount:

 

Yesterday, Ohio complimented Sherry’s new shoes, except that Sherry’s been wearing the same boots for the last year. Sherry pointed it out. Ohio got nervous and opened fire. Things blew up. Darryl screamed.

 

The day before, Sherry offered some hair dye for Ohio to maintain her fading bubblegum-pink hair color, to which Ohio winked and said if Sherry was offering to get her hands on her head, and then Sherry pointed out that Ohio had winked while still wearing her helmet, and Ohio responded that she’d been relying on Sherry’s _excellent_ powers of observation to notice. Sherry got flustered and opened fire. Things blew up. Terril screamed.

 

The day before _that_ , Ohio had enacted a hideous and awful plan to destroy the Charon enemies by singing karaoke loudly through the Charon base PA system, starting her playlist off with “I Kissed A Girl (And I Liked It).” Sherry’s response was to hack the Freelancer’s base and sing ( _croon_ ) the lyrics of Hayley Kiyoko’s “Sleepover” directly into Ohio’s bedroom. Ohio got embarrassed and threw half a ton of explosives into the wall to nuke their own PA system. Things blew up. Iowa screamed—

 

“Okay, okay!” Ohio says hastily. “The PA system thing was a bad move, I know—”

 

“You _blew up_ our own _base_!”

 

Ohio whines. “It was only a _part_ of it...”

 

“NO,” says Idaho. “This stops _here_ , O. Iowa and I are gonna die one of these days because you two can’t figure out how to flirt without bringing extreme sports into it.”

 

“We’re not flirting! We’re at very serious, very platonic war! Because we're enemies, and enemies don't flirt!”

 

Idaho opens his mouth.

 

“Wait,” says Iowa.

 

“What now, Iowa,” Ohio says impatiently.

 

Iowa squints, staring into the middle distance. He says, “Fact: Ohio and Sherry talk about each other all the time. Fact: Ohio and Sherry call each other pet names. Fact: Sherry never actually shoots us. Fact: Sherry likes Ohio’s weird pink hair. Fact: Sherry told me once that she wants to pull it.”

 

“Yeah,” says Idaho, just as Ohio says: “She wants to _pull_ —”

 

“Fact,” Iowa continues. “Sherry says that she doesn’t beat me unconscious because then Ohio will be sad. Fact: Ohio and Sherry are very happy when they’re together and make each other happier. So I think…”

 

He pauses. Looks up and off into the sky. Scratches his head. Blinks.

 

“I think… you two… might actually be flirting.”

 

Idaho looks back at Ohio.

 

“It’s bad if Iowa noticed it, isn’t it,” says Ohio.

 

Idaho stares at her without expression.

 

*

 

Idaho proposes: the new current mission is now to not just watch the Charon base, but to take one of them out on a date. Specifically, the mission is to get Ohio and Sherry on a date.

 

“A mission,” Ohio tells herself. “I can do that. A mission! Just treat it like an objective. You can do this. You can do this!”

 

She nods at herself in the mirror and scrubs her toothbrush vigorously across her teeth. (Ignores the sinking feeling of betraying the small, fragile purpose she'd managed to eke out for herself. Because if she's dating Sherry, then what else is she doing to do here...?)

 

Ohio shakes her head. Refocuses.

 

“You’re going to date Sherry!” she tells herself.

 

*

 

Ohio does not date Sherry.

 

In fact, Ohio dithers over logistics, timing, wardrobe, placements, and _especially_ dithers over the actual setting-up of the date for four whole days, before Iowa walks in and says that Terril and Darryl cleared out the Charon base rec room and made a breastaurant.

 

“They made a  _what_?” Ohio asks.

 

“They said something about uniforms?” Iowa says. “And that they only had regular shirts? And that Sherry deserves better than t-shirts on her waiters? But they only had scissors and no extra fabric, so the only uniforms they could make were tiny crop-tops. They were very cute!”

 

“Terril and Darryl are the metaphorical breasts at the breastaurant,” Ohio says in disbelief.

 

“Each one can be one boob,” Idaho says.

 

“It makes a full rack,” Ohio concedes.

 

“Ah, no, it’s a breastaurant,” says Iowa. “I believe there is only one breast.”

 

“That’s not how a breastaurant works, Iowa,” Ohio says.

 

“No, no, let the man talk,” Idaho says. “Darryl and Terril can each be… half a boob?”

 

“Am I supposed to take Sherry there?” Ohio asks. “I’m supposed to take her to Terril and Darryl’s _breastaurant_?”

 

“They are very excited,” says Iowa.

 

“Ohhhhhhh my god,” says Ohio, and buries her face in her hands. “What kind of awful first date…”

 

“But? They tie-dyed their shirts?” says Iowa.

 

“That doesn’t make it better!” Ohio snaps. She pouts, and groans, and kicks at the floor. “But there’s not any other choices, so…”

 

“Five places worse than a breastaurant that you could take her,” Idaho says.

 

“A dump,” Iowa says immediately.

 

“Uninventive, but one!”

 

“Um, a graveyard?”

 

“Better! Two!”

 

“Brunch with in-laws,” says Iowa.

 

“ _Definitely_ three.”

 

“A bedroom,” says Iowa.

 

“I think you misunderstand the potential possibilities of date,” says Idaho.

 

“But if you go to a bedroom, you’ll just fall asleep?”

 

Idaho and Ohio look at each other. Neither of them are broaching that.

 

“Four,” says Idaho, reluctantly, for Iowa's sake. “O, get in on this.”

 

“A shitty ice planet in the middle of nowhere with no other life forms,” says Ohio glumly.

 

“C’mon, O, we’ve been over this.”

 

Ohio sighs. She’d really, really rather just be throwing grenades at Sherry. Life’s simpler then. Things she can do. A clear mission objective. A purpose. Sherry’s wild smile and long, clean dreads. The feeling that they're making a mistake grows stronger.

 

“A military outpost in a desert box canyon with no way in or out where the sun never sets and the sky never rains and time never passes and nobody talks about their feelings or gets over their homosexual tension,” Ohio says.

 

“... _Oddly_ specific,” says Idaho, “but that’s five!”

 

*

 

Ohio suits up for the mission in her best civilian wear, which is objectively pretty old and worn. “It’s fine, Sherry’s wearing just about the same quality,” Idaho tells her. “We’ll be with you every step of the way.”

 

Her team’s got her back. Ohio puts in the earpiece where Idaho can contact her and gives him a shaky, but determined, thumbs-up.

 

(Ohio still has no idea what's going to happen if this mission succeeds. If they're not fighting, then...?)

 

From the start, Sherry glares at Ohio from across the table. Terril and Darryl lurk in the “kitchen,” which is a semi-sectioned off space with a busted fridge and the bar full of alcohol. Sherry is indeed wearing a soft t-shirt and jeans. Terril and Darryl are indeed wearing crop-tops. The crop-tops are indeed tie-dyed.

 

“I don’t see why I have to discuss a temporary truce with _you_ ,” Sherry says, by way of hello.

 

Yes, right, because that’s what this meeting is officially for. Ohio looks back at her coolly, the image of a woman meeting her battlefield enemy. “You wanna try and play diplomacy with Iowa?”

 

“Iowa’s less likely to shoot me in the foot like a fucking lunatic,” Sherry retorts.

 

Ohio loves trading shitty villain banter with Sherry. It’s the times when she feels the most complete, the most competent, at the top of the game she can’t really play. She loves the way Sherry looks at her like she’s capable, a threat really worth considering. She loves that Sherry doesn’t look at at her Freelancer leaderboard rankings or her shitty aim or long track record of failed missions, but at _her_ , at the person she’s become on this snowball of a planet.

 

“But I guess Iowa’s not as easy on the eyes,” Sherry concedes, and smirks when Ohio wheezes and struggles to breathe.

 

That _bitch_. She _knows_ what compliments do to Ohio. Sherry’s diabolical that way.

 

“ _Don’t let her get to you_ ,” Idaho’s voice in her earpiece says. “ _You’ve got this. You’ve withstood compliments before, and you can do it again._ ”

 

Ohio nods to herself. He’s right! Ohio won’t be downed by a single compliment from a pretty lady! She can do this!

 

“That’s the only place I’m easy,” Ohio replies. “For everything else, I like it hard.”

 

" _Okay, that's... not awful,_ " Idaho says. " _Not_ entirely _sure that makes complete sense, but..._ "

 

Ohio twirls a bit of her own hair around her finger. Smiles gleefully when Sherry’s eyes flick to her hair and away and abruptly needs to take a long drink of water. Idaho cackles over her earpiece.

 

“Aaaaaand here’s the menu,” Terril announces, and plunks a single piece of paper in front of both of them. It has a bullet-point list on it, consisting of one entry. Both Terril and Darryl look hugely pleased with themselves.

 

“Where’s the rest of this list,” Sherry says.

 

“That’s it,” says Darryl.

 

“This is the whole menu—just—” Ohio looks at the menu, rather unnecessarily. “Just White Russians.”

 

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” Idaho says in her ear.

 

“Do you have anything… else…?” Sherry says.

 

“...White Russians with ice,” Terril says.

 

“White Russians already have ice!”

 

“Man,” Terril says, “what do you _want_ from us?”

 

“ _Food_ ,” says Sherry. “Real, edible, chewable food.”

 

Darryl and Terril look at each other. Darryl says, “There’s cream _in_ the White Russian—”

 

“--which has protein—” Terril adds.

 

Sherry crumples up the menu and bounces it off Terril’s forehead. "You told me you could set this up," she hisses, with a nervous glance at Ohio.

 

"We tried! Darryl even tried to make a candle so you guys could have a candlelit dinner! It's just that there's only, uh, dynamite in this base, and we didn't think you'd appreciate—"

 

“You're right, this was entirely my fault for letting you two run off unchecked," Sherry says. "Get us some MREs."

 

Terril and Darryl complain and moan and go off to get some MREs. “Five things you’d rather be eating,” Ohio says almost automatically.

 

“ _Atta girl_ ,” Idaho’s voice says.

 

“Oh, god, please don’t, I’ll just get nostalgic for real food,” Sherry sighs. Pauses. “Baked salmon.”

 

“One,” says Ohio.

 

“Um, risotto.”

 

“Oh, same! Two!”

 

“Mac and cheese.”

 

“Ohhhhh,” says Ohio. “Ohhh, you’re right, this was a bad idea, I miss real food now.”

 

“Not even the real mac and cheese,” says Sherry. “The plastic nuclear cheese kind that you put in a microwave. The one you’re supposed to make with water but sometimes you make with milk.”

 

“Nghgh,” says Ohio. “Three.”

 

“Real vegetables,” says Sherry.

 

“Vegetables? Really?”

 

“Yeah, really,” says Sherry. “I did a real mean baked vegetable dish with olive oil and salt. Asparagus and brussel sprouts and summer squash. Makes the vegetables nice and crispy around the edges, warm and moist on the inside. I miss eating a real plant.” She shrugs. Smiles one of her close-lipped smiles, the ones that make Ohio feel like she’s been told a secret. “I liked cooking. I especially liked cooking for friends and girlfriends.”

 

Ohio is blushing again, she knows it.

 

“You do the last one,” says Sherry.

 

Ohio blinks. Brings her head out of the clouds back to the ground. “A snow cone,” she says immediately.

 

“Really? Here? On Planet Deep Freeze?”

 

“Because it’s something I can actually make,” says Ohio. “Get some snow, get some syrup--you know, the ones that you use to make cocktails and things? And then puts some condensed milk in there if you’ve got it, which I _know_ you guys do because of all your White Russians…”

 

“Oh, hell,” says Sherry, looking at Ohio with a widening grin. “Why didn’t I think of that? That’s _genius._ ”

 

It’s like that first moment all over again: the bond, the realization, the respect, the feeling of Sherry seeing _Ohio_ in exactly that most authentic way that Ohio knows of. Every moment that they’d ever had, standing on the walls of their mutual bases, shouting orders and shouting taunts and watching each other’s crazy stunts with the vague feeling of _Wow, what a woman_ . Except this moment doesn’t have guns or bullets or shitty villain banter or any of the usual trappings: this is Sherry offering purpose, fulfillment, standing not against Ohio but _with_ her.

 

Ohio bolts to her feet like she’s been shocked.

 

“I! Um!” Ohio stammers. “I have to, um!”

 

She doesn't even finish her sentence before she flees altogether.

 

*

 

Idaho catches her before she can escape the base. Grabs her by the collar and spins her back around.

 

“I wanna go back to shooting at herrrrrrr,” Ohio whines.

 

“NO,” Idaho says. “You can’t just keep blowing things up instead of real flirting! Go back in there and talk to her!”

 

“Idahoooooooooo…”

 

“You can do this, Ohio,” says Idaho. “You _know_ you can.”

 

Ohio gives him a reproachful, but not ungrateful, stare. Those are the words that Ohio is usually telling _herself,_  especially back in The Days when she thought she might be able to make it as a high-level Freelancer. Those are words that she wanted to believe, and had, grudgingly, come to terms with the fact that she _couldn’t_ do the things that she’d wanted to. That she  _had_ some strengths, and she wasn't terrible at everything, but she'd never be good at the things she wanted to be good at the most.

 

She wants to say that she can, you know? But experience has taught her otherwise. She’s never really succeeded at anything, except sticking together with her team.

 

Bless him, Idaho’s expression softens, and he nudges her shoulder. “Well, even if you can’t, we’ve got your back anyway. Go do your best, and we’ll do ours, and if she doesn’t like that, then you can do better than her.”

 

“I can’t do better than her,” says Ohio.

 

“You totally can.”

 

“There’s literally no other women on this planet,” Ohio points out.

 

“Stop undermining my motivational speeches,” Idaho says.

 

“Okay, okay,” Ohio says, and sighs. "Idaho?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I don't know if I want to go back in there."

 

"Are you serious? Vera, _really?_ " Idaho says. "I've seen the way you look at her. I have to listen to you talk about her every single day. Everyone knows you're head over heels for her, and you don't wanna go back? You two were really getting along back there! The date is going fine!"

 

"That's the problem," Ohio mutters. "I can't date her and also fight her, can I?"

 

Idaho doesn't respond right away—which is a relief, honestly, to know that he's taking it seriously, really trying to think through what she said. She wraps her arms around herself, nervously tucking hair behind her ears. "We're only here to watch those Charon guys," Ohio goes on. "That's our mission objective. The purpose. The reason why we're here. But if I'm dating her, then they're not a threat anymore, and if they're not a threat anymore, then..."

 

She isn't asking him for an answer, which he knows. He doesn't try to give her one. "I don't really know where we're going with this dating thing, either," says Idaho. "I mean, it's been pretty up in the air ever since, uh... Freelancer put us here, and all that. So..." He shrugs. "Look. It's a change in the relationship, sure. But it's worth trying, isn't it? You two are great together. I  _know_ you want this. You can't let being scared of that sort of change get in your way. No matter where we end up, we've got your back, so... there's always that."

 

Ohio looks down. Nods. It's all true. It's almost enough. Doesn't solve anything, but by god, she's grateful that Idaho will always have her back.

 

“Team effort," she says. "Sticking together to our dumbass, mutual end.”

 

“Unless the end involves you making out with her,” says Idaho, “in which case, I tap out. You’re on your own. I will turn off the earpiece because I refuse to walk you through that. _Please_ don’t blow anything up while I give you two your privacy.”

 

“Come on, Idaho, we aren’t that bad! How would that even happen?”

 

Idaho looks at her.

 

“We’ll try not to,” Ohio concedes.

 

*

 

The MREs only get half-eaten before Sherry decides that they _absolutely_ have to try out the snow cone idea, so they wind up outside, wearing civilian winter parkas and sitting in the snow, dumping sugar syrup and cream over the little bowls of ice they’ve collected. It’s fucking _delicious_. Ohio definitely makes an orgasm noise when she tries it, and then nearly chokes when she realizes what she’d just done, and then really does choke when Sherry giggles and calls her cute. Idaho sighs over the comm line.

 

“So what’s this about diplomacy and a potential truce?” Sherry asks, when they’ve asserted that Ohio is probably not dying from shock.

 

“It’s just a temporary truce,” says Ohio, grudgingly. “We’ll pick the war back up as soon as we need to again.” Ohio is willing to try this relationship change thing, but she's not putting any nails in any coffins yet. Or ever, maybe.

 

“Christ,” says Sherry, with an exasperated little laugh. “Okay--alright, I get it. Just a temporary truce.”

 

“Indefinite,” Ohio offers, thinking that Sherry's exasperated with her insistence on their fighting. “Until further notice.”

 

Sherry’s quiet for a moment. “Temporary,” she says again, and Ohio looks at her curiously. Sherry isn’t smiling anymore. And then Sherry says, to Ohio's surprise: “Temporary’s for the best. Temporary might even be too long.” Sherry sucks on her spoon thoughtfully, then dunks it back in her snow cone. “What else are we supposed to do with ourselves if we’re not fighting?”

 

It should probably terrify her how well Sherry knows her and what it's like to get dumped on Planet Useless. Instead, it feels like a balm over itches she didn't know she had. “You don’t want a truce?” she asks.

 

Sherry huffs.

 

“But you always were so… _upset_ about the fighting,” Ohio says.

 

“I was upset that you shot me in the goddamn foot. And I still am, for your information,” Sherry says. “The rest was…” There’s a crooked, almost bashful grin on Sherry’s lips. “Well, you could say that you were right, and that I did, actually, thank you for it later. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

 

More than anything, Ohio feels her heart swell at that—not just the idea of having been right, but that Sherry gets it—she _gets_ it! She _understands_ , she knows, she _feels_ that need to have a purpose to her life, because love is everything but love has no shape on its own, and Ohio could have kissed her right then and there, to fill up the great and vast structure of their little war with all the love she feels just then.

 

And Sherry must have seen something on her face, because her eyes go a little unfocused and she drifts closer, like she’s not even aware of what she’s doing, and _god_ Ohio just wants to pull her close and finish the deed—

 

Ohio leans away. Sherry blinks. “Then that would make us enemies,” Ohio says quickly.

 

Sherry bites her own lip. Slyly, she begins to smile.

 

“Oh, yes,” says Sherry. “I’m very aware. But I think we can work with that.”

 

Okay, now they’re no longer on the same page. Ohio squirms at the clever curve of Sherry’s mouth, and feels herself drifting closer. Their shoulders are touching, and Ohio can’t feel anything through the winter parkas, but just the proximity itself messes with her. “If we’re enemies, then we’re supposed to be fighting,” Ohio warns.

 

“But we are,” Sherry says. “For example: how do you know I’m not just seducing you to discover your hidden Freelancer secrets?”

 

Ohio gasps. “Of course!” she whispers. “Of course, _that’s_ why you’re sweet-talking me—you’re getting me to lower my guard and tell you our next moves!”

 

“A classic spy-thriller,” says Sherry. “You should have seen it coming, sweet-cheeks.”

 

“It _is_ a classic. Practically predictable. It would be such a shame,” Ohio murmurs, “if I, the team leader in charge of all our decisions, tragically fell for the dashing young woman on the enemy team…”

 

Sherry laughs. It’s so, so much more beautiful this close. “Dashing who? I think you’re talking about yourself. Are you sure you aren’t seducing your way into _my_ bed to discover _our_ secrets?”

 

Ohio thinks about this. “Both?”

 

“Mutual femme fatales,” says Sherry. “Toeing the line into star-crossed lovers.”

 

Ohio’s found herself with one hand drifting up, nervous, too nervous to settle on Sherry’s shoulder. Her heart is galloping like a racehorse. This anticipation is going to kill her before Sherry can. “Both of us fighting for our cause by day, betraying ourselves to love at night,” says Ohio. “A terrible, perfect mistake.”

 

“I’d say this mistake is pretty worth it,” says Sherry gently.

 

Ohio can’t take it anymore. “Oh, christ,” says Ohio, with a shaky giggle. “I just—the anticipation—Sherry, can _one_ of us just femme-fatale the other so I can stop being so ner—”

 

Sherry cuts her off with the soft press of lips. Ohio closes her eyes and melts. Her skin is so soft, so full, Ohio feels want rising in her throat, wants to open her mouth and drown in Sherry, let themselves fall apart in each other and put themselves back together in the morning. She wraps a hand around the back and Sherry’s neck and sighs into her mouth.

 

“ _Mission accomplished!_ ” Idaho’s voice cheers in Ohio’s ear.

 

Ohio grins against Sherry’s mouth.

 

“ _Signing off, then. Good luck with the rest, Agent Ohio!_ ”

 

That’s all she needs. Ohio rips off the earpiece, dunks it in the snow, and kisses Sherry back with everything she’s got.


End file.
